Matt-038 (Halo Fanfiction)

Chapter 77: Give em' Hell

Author's Note: If you have any tips writing tips, please feel free to comment.

Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

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Chapter 77: Give em' Hell

Location: Aboard hybrid vessel Gettysburg-Ascendant Justice, in Slipspace

September 13, 2552

0520 hours

Matt parked the groaning overloaded robotic dolly next to the side hatch of the Covenant dropship. The dolly held four tons of carbon-molybdenum steel I-beams.

Will unloaded the cargo and hauled it inside, where Fred and the Sergeant cross-braced and welded the beams in place.

This was the final reinforcement to the dropship. The interior of the craft was so cramped that two armored Spartans could barely pass one another.

They had welded layers of lead, boron fibers, and Titanium-A hull plates they had removed from the Gettysburg. According to Cortana's calculations, this was the only way to give them better than fifty-fifty odds of emerging from a Slipspace transition with an intact ship.

Admiral Whitcomb monitored the display of a computer repair cart, then looked up and said, "Crystal is ready for you, Commander." He waved him over.

They decided to use Crystal so Cortana could help pilot the ship. 

Matt marched to the cart and let the Admiral hook up the interface to the base of his neck. "This should feel just like a normal download," he said.

Chilled mercury filled Matt's mind just like it always did when Crystal entered and fused with his thoughts. This presence, however, warmed too quickly, as if it were just thin ice melting against his body's heat. It was like a recollection of Crystal inside his head—not the real thing.

"Initializing MJOLNIR armor systems check and subroutine unpacking protocols," Crystal's voice whispered. At the same time, the real Crystal also spoke over the COM: "Don't listen to her. She's only half the woman she used to be."

"As long as you only copied the good parts," Matt replied.

"I'm all good," Crystal replied tersely. "Just don't get too used to a passenger you can order around."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Systems check complete," the copied Crystal whispered. "All systems are functional."

Linda approached the opposite side of the Covenant dropship; a robot dolly followed stacked with rifles, Lotus antitank mines, explosives, and crates of ammunition. She angled the dolly and led it up to the loading ramp until it butted against the hull.

John emerged from inside, and Linda handed him an armful of submachine guns. Matt detected a slight limp to her stride and an almost imperceptible awkwardness to her usual fluid motions.

He opened a private COM channel to Linda. "What's your status? Are you fit?"

She shrugged. This gesture was notoriously difficult to perform in MJOLNIR armor with its force-multiplying circuits. It took a degree of concentration and dexterity that spoke volumes about Linda's true coordination.

"Doctor Halsey would say I needed a month's bed rest," she wryly replied. "But I'm squared away, Commander. I still have this." She picked her sniper rifle off the dolly and slung it over her shoulder with liquid grace. "And I still have this." She patted her helmet. "Even though the Covenant did their best to shoot it off last time."